


Rosy Cheeks

by dhwty_writes



Series: Winter Prompt Challenge [6]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cold Weather, Fluff, M/M, Prompt Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28536471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhwty_writes/pseuds/dhwty_writes
Summary: Geralt and Jaskier are travelling and Geralt is enraptured by his bard's rosy cheeks.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Winter Prompt Challenge [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035792
Comments: 10
Kudos: 112





	Rosy Cheeks

**Author's Note:**

> No-one is more surprised than I am that I’m apparently continuing the winter prompts challenge by xxenjoy, but I’m clearing out my WIPs, so this had to go. I’m sorry if the ending is a bit rushed, I hope you enjoy it anyways!

Winter had come creeping and cruel, far earlier than what he or Jaskier had expected. One day they had been merrily trekking through the autumn countryside, the next they had woken to a thin layer of snow. It was... less than ideal. Normally, with these temperatures they would be holed up in their winter quarters already—Kaer Morhen, or Oxenfurt, or, in some memorable occasions, together in some court or another. 

Not that he was complaining. No, not that _he_ was complaining. Geralt delighted in every moment that he could spend with Jaskier, although he would not dare to tell him that. The bard, on the other hand, was _very_ vocal about both his affections as well as well as his complaints.

"Gosh, Geralt, can you believe this?" the poet groaned rubbing his frozen fingers together. Geralt couldn't help but smile at the white puffs of breaths that were released into the air with every word. "Oh, yeah, just you laugh. Well, some of us are actually affected by this godsdamned cold. I'm freezing my bollocks of, witcher, I tell you. You'll see, come spring I shall be a eunuch, and then what will I do? Hm? Care to answer that, my friend?" 

He scoffed and launched into the third rant of the day, but Geralt wasn't listening anymore. No, he was far too mesmerised by the looks of his bard. He was, of course, dressed less than appropriately for the weather, even with Geralt's spare cloak and the warm mittens he had knitted last winter for himself. Well, he was used to Jaskier appropriating his clothing, he didn't mind. In fact, he even enjoyed seeing him wearing the clothes he had made. It made him feel useful, in a way, much more so than killing monsters ever would. 

But even so, Jaskier was obviously affected by the cold. Geralt cocked his head as he took in the reddened nose and cheeks of his bard. He had seen it so many times on humans, and he'd known it himself, too, as a child. He knew he had to. But he couldn't remember-

His hands moved without his bidding and before he could stop himself he cupped his bard's cheeks with both hands.

"And what's next, my fingers? What about my livelihood, what's left after my hands and my co—" He halted in confusion, glancing around. "Oh, uh, Geralt?" He forced a smile. "What are you doing?"

"Cold," he choked out. Geralt felt very stupid, all of a sudden. What _was_ he even doing? Somehow, though, his hands wouldn't move.

"Well, um, yes. It is cold. Very astute of you to notice," Jaskier rolled his eyes with a fond smile. He didn't appear too bothered by the unexpected touch. So, maybe—

"Your cheeks." He rubbed his thumbs over them in slow circles. "Hmm."

"D'you um, like that?" Jaskier breathed as he leaned into the touch.

"It's weird," he answered honestly. "Rough and soft." Normally, Jaskier's skin was nothing but soft, smooth as a peach. He had plenty of hands-on experience; his bard was a very cuddly drunk. But the weather was taking his toll there, too, without the proper salves to take care of it, as Jaskier had explained earlier. "'S good."

A breath of white air escaped Jaskier's mouth in a breathy laugh. His lips were always lathered with a thick cream in winter, to keep them from chapping, apparently. Geralt simply had to- His thumb flicked down to the corner of Jaskier's mouth and the bard's breath hitched.

He continued tracing his lips with his thumb.

"Umm, Geralt?" Jaskier's tongue almost flicked out, as he always did when he was nervous, but he seemed to change his mind halfway through. "What exactly are we doing here?"

If he was honest, Geralt didn't know either. How had they even gotten there? Just touching Jaskier like that, had he taken leave of his senses? Unfortunately, they hadn't returned to him yet. To his own horror he asked: "Can I kiss you?"

Jaskier stared at him. And blinked. Stared some more. Blinked again.

It was making Geralt very uncomfortable. He was already drawing back his hands to quickly make his escape, when Jaskier asked: "Geralt, are you ill? Did you hit your head? You don't have a fever, do you?"

He frowned. "Witchers can't get ill." Jaskier knew that, too. 

"Yeah, yeah, just checking...," his bard muttered. And then, without any sort of warning, he had his arms slung around his neck and was kissing him. It was a good kiss, as far as cold kisses with slightly snotty noses went, but Geralt wasn't about to complain. He delighted in every moment that he could spend with Jaskier, and if he could kiss him at the same time, he'd enjoy that even more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, leave a comment and a kudo or come over to chat with me on [tumblr](https://dhwty-writes.tumblr.com/) if you liked it!


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